Michael Ginsberg (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
just_displaced) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tampered2014-01-07 06:27 pm
just_displaced) wrote in tampered2014-01-07 06:27 pm
Entry tags:
Oh, every day I start so great...
When; January 7
Rating; PG-13 because... angst? And probably discussions of disturbing stuff.
Characters; Michael Ginsberg, Tosh Sato
Summary; Ginsberg isn't having the greatest time of anything... and when that happens, he has this weird tendency of running into Tosh.
Log; There are good days and there are bad days, but right now, he's slowly becoming convinced that the bad days outnumber the good ones by such a big margin as to just be unfair. It's not the fact that they're stuck in the City, although of course that doesn't help matters, it's the fact that he can't turn off his brain, can't quiet down the millions of incessant little voices in it, telling him things he doesn't want to hear and doesn't want to think about.
When it gets this bad, the only thing he knows how to do is wander. Back home, feeling like this had always been a reason to spend the night at the office, pounding away at the typewriter keys, channeling all of that frustration into advertisements that, 90% of the time, would never become anything at all. The other 10% were worth something, and that made the work worthwhile. That made the frustration worthwhile. That quieted things down a little.
But here there's nothing to advertise for, and while he could write ads for products he'd been working on back home, there's no tangible reward, no team to pitch them to, nothing meaningful about them. They'd just be another stupid distraction.
So he wanders. He has no idea where he's going, and he's not watching where he's going, either. Which is very likely why, when he finds himself sitting underneath a tree in Xanadu, knees pulled up to his chest, ignoring the cold ground despite the fact that it's January and he's not dressed for the weather, he probably couldn't tell someone where he was even if they asked him.
It's there that Tosh will find him.
Rating; PG-13 because... angst? And probably discussions of disturbing stuff.
Characters; Michael Ginsberg, Tosh Sato
Summary; Ginsberg isn't having the greatest time of anything... and when that happens, he has this weird tendency of running into Tosh.
Log; There are good days and there are bad days, but right now, he's slowly becoming convinced that the bad days outnumber the good ones by such a big margin as to just be unfair. It's not the fact that they're stuck in the City, although of course that doesn't help matters, it's the fact that he can't turn off his brain, can't quiet down the millions of incessant little voices in it, telling him things he doesn't want to hear and doesn't want to think about.
When it gets this bad, the only thing he knows how to do is wander. Back home, feeling like this had always been a reason to spend the night at the office, pounding away at the typewriter keys, channeling all of that frustration into advertisements that, 90% of the time, would never become anything at all. The other 10% were worth something, and that made the work worthwhile. That made the frustration worthwhile. That quieted things down a little.
But here there's nothing to advertise for, and while he could write ads for products he'd been working on back home, there's no tangible reward, no team to pitch them to, nothing meaningful about them. They'd just be another stupid distraction.
So he wanders. He has no idea where he's going, and he's not watching where he's going, either. Which is very likely why, when he finds himself sitting underneath a tree in Xanadu, knees pulled up to his chest, ignoring the cold ground despite the fact that it's January and he's not dressed for the weather, he probably couldn't tell someone where he was even if they asked him.
It's there that Tosh will find him.